


An Angel, A Demon, & A Fallen Angel Walk Into A Bar

by avatarafrica



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), Ineffable Poly/Pan Husbands (Good Omens), M/M, Multi, Multiple Partners, Other, Polyamory, Reader-Insert, Sexual Content, Slow Build, Slow Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-12
Updated: 2019-08-13
Packaged: 2020-06-26 17:38:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,178
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19773169
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/avatarafrica/pseuds/avatarafrica
Summary: You've just fallen to Earth, you don't remember how you fell, and you're the first angel to do so in over a millennium.Now you're stranded with an angel and a demon on Earth, trying to understand what happened while coming to terms with becoming a demon.





	1. The Shooting Star

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't written a fan fiction I so desperately wanted to post in years.  
> I got really inspired while drawing some self-indulgent art of the two and had this lovely idea.
> 
> This is a slow romance polyamorous fic between Aziraphale, Crowley, and you, the reader! 
> 
> Along the way there will be:  
> \- Sexual content  
> \- Fluff  
> \- Hurt & Comfort  
> \- Violence  
> \- and Angst

**_The Shooting Star._ **

Armageddon had been stopped, the world was at peace and none the wiser to its previous state of peril. It had been over a year since that dreadful Saturday afternoon. Crowley and Aziraphale sat together on the bench that they had claimed as theirs for oh so many years now, watching the ducks and taking in the scenery. 

“ I can not believe it has been over a year since we stopped the end of the world, _"_ Aziraphale put his hands on his knees, his face scrunching a little.

Crowley’s head turned to look at the angel’s face.“ We hardly stopped it, Adam was practically human by the time we got to him.”

Aziraphale pressed his lips together, nodding slightly. Silence overtook ‘Zira for a brief moment before perking up, turning to the demon, “ But we were needed,” he exclaimed,” Agnes said so in her prophecies and we did coerce him to go against his father.” Crowley’s eyebrows raised a bit above his sunglasses, his gaze returning to the pond in front of them.

“Yes, I suppose that’s true then," the demon muttered, leg swaying slowly. A tender smile graced over the angel’s face, forming dimples unto his rosy cheeks. He briefly looked down at his hands which anxiously gripped his pants before looking back up, staring at the pond before them.

“ What did you call me for anyway, angel?” Crowley leaned further back against the bench, legs spreading as he did.

“ Oh! Well, “ his gaze met the demon’s,” I figured we could have dinner together this evening.”

Slowly turning his head, the relaxed demon turned his attention to the curly haired angel. " Right then," his voice cracked as a tint of pink appeared on his face. Nearly a year together and he still found himself flustered by the angel's smallest gestures. Crowley stood up, looking at Aziraphale, “ Shall we then?” He extended his hand at the end of his question. Aziraphale took a quick glance at the hand offered before gingerly taking it and standing up to meet the gaze of the red haired demon. Interlacing their fingers, the duo walked down the paved path towards the Bentley. 

* * *

Dinner was served, wine had been drank, and both angel and demon were sharing casual conversation on their way back to Aziraphale’s bookshop. “ It’s quite late,” the angel said looking up at the empty black sky before them. The city’s pollution wasn’t the worst but some nights it truly made the stars nearly impossible to be seen. Crowley agreed, giving the sky a glance seeing as it caught his partner’s attention.

“Crowley,” the demon turned to look at the angel next to him,” thank you for the evening and-” 

Aziraphale paused, his eyes looking past Crowley with astonishment instead of looking at him lovingly. 

“Aziraphale?” Echoing across London was the sound of a sonic boom that set off car alarms and dogs across the town. Swearing in exclamation, Crowley turned to look behind himself- a streak of white pierced the darkness of night, darting across the sky and turning black as it descended. The few humans who littered the streets at such an hour were shaken to see such a sight. Many began to clamor on with theories as to what the mystery light could have been, all of which were quite preposterous, except one. 

“ That.. It couldn’t have been,” Aziraphale took a shaky step forward, standing next to his red-headed partner.” There hasn’t been one in-”

“ A millennium..” The demon responded while scanning the sky over quickly, looking for any other "stars" that might pierce the night sky.

The two exchanged a look of grave concern before frantically rushing to Crowley’s car. 

“ It couldn’t be that far, Crowley. There’s no need to rush. I’m positive that they’re just getting their bearINGS,” a sharp and unsignaled turn made Aziraphale raise his voice a tad, gripping the edge of the car door tightly. The demon didn’t say a word in response, his eyes glued to the road with a blank expression on his face.

It had been too long since an angel had fallen. There had always been demons that simply pop into hell just as the humans do, but for an angel to fall like **_that_ **from heaven unto Earth was an entirely different situation. Crowley was never good with the opposite side, Aziraphale was the only angel he ever cared about- the only angel he has ever loved. And Aziraphale felt the same- Crowley was the only demon he cared for and the only one he loved so dearly. The two were far from decent when it came to handling the opposing sides, even if Armageddon had eased the tensions a smidge. This on the other hand was an entirely new matter, one that neither of them had much experience with.

The black car came to a slow stop before the two got out, engine still running with high beams shining ahead. “ Are you positive this is where they landed?” The angel questioned, watching Crowley walk ahead. 

“ I’m sure.” Aziraphale trotted behind him, anxiously afraid to know what this fallen angel was capable of. _Who were they? How did they fall- What made them fall?_ All of these questions raced through not only Aziraphale’s head, but Crowley’s as well. The red-head knew what was the fault for his own fall but to learn someone else’s was truly a once in a lifetime treat.

The edge of town had few homes and fewer businesses and was mostly farmlands scattered about in the most peculiar way. The two headed for the thin tower of smoke that climbed towards the sky. As they walked, Aziraphale watched the smoke climb in awe only to let his eyes wander to the night sky splayed before him. The clouds were not as thick out here and the light pollution was practically nonexistent, leaving the angel to view the stars to his heart’s content. But this was not the time. Perhaps on a date with Crowley- yes, that sounded splendid. A dinner picnic watching the sunset just to cuddle the night away under the stars or even-

“ A little light, angel?” Crowley glanced over his shoulder to Aziraphale who looked lost in a blissful thought.

The blonde angel's face flushed red before he nodded and snapped his fingers.“ Let there be light.”

The pale light illuminated the scorched earth where the angel had landed. Skid marks of burnt grass held a dim orange glow to them as they barely had enough heat to produce a flame. Both Crowley and Aziraphale’s eyes followed the trail where their gaze met a decent sized hole in the ground. The source of the smoke. The fallen angel.

Taking the necessary precautions, Aziraphale and Crowley slowly approached the ditch the entity laid in. The hole was no more than a foot and a half deep and inside it was a celestial being. “ Oh my,” Aziraphale whispered, covering his mouth. 

Their skin, covered in dirt and soot, was marked up for the worst. Their wings were battered and the white that defined them as an angel had already began to darken. No dignity was given to this fallen angel, their holy robes were discarded, either burnt or taken away. Whatever this angel had done, it had been for the worst in order to have fallen this hard. 

“ Angel, “ Crowley began to speak only to be cut off by the soft whipping sound of a blanket which Aziraphale had just miracled into existence.

“ Already on it, darling.” Stepping forward into the shallow hole, Aziraphale took the blanket into both hands and draped it over the being. Crowley knelt down and carefully scooped up the battered entity, carrying them in his arms. Thank Satan for being able to whim up super strength when needed.

Heading back to the car, the two whispered softly to each other as to what was going to become of the angel and if they should even be intervening with the situation right now. Unknowingly to the two of them who began to quietly bicker, the blinding headlights shined into the heavy eyes of the fallen angel that Crowley was carrying. Slowly glancing upward, the demon who carried them was seen and the faint concerned voice of the angel next to him could be heard despite the ringing in their ears. The angel fell back out of consciousness before being delicately placed into the back of the Bentley.

Crowley pushed the seat back into its place before turning to look at the angel who was overlooking his shoulder.“ You’re sure about this, Aziraphale?"

The angel quickly nodded in response. “ I am, yes.” 

The sound of two car doors slamming echoed across the field only to be followed by the sharp sound of tires screeching. As quick as they had arrived, they left all the same.


	2. Black Tea & Milk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Back in the bookshop you've finally regained consciousness.
> 
> But where exactly are you and how did you even fall?

_**Black Tea & Milk** _

Standing on the edge of clouds, you peer down at the Earth below you. It’s beautiful and has always had your undivided attention. When the war diminished you realized that you truly would never have a chance to walk across the grassy meadows scattered on its surface or dip your wings into a cold brook. You were forever confined to your services in Heaven- never to leave. In a blink, you’re falling, halo dissipating and your wings are no longer capable of carrying your angelic weight. The surrounding sky is dark and faint voices are bouncing off of invisible walls, reverberating in your ears. 

  


_Darling, I just don’t think we should be caring for a fallen angel._

  


_YOU’RE a fallen angel, Crowley. I care for YOU._

  


_That’s not the point, angel. This isn’t about my fall._

  


And then it all stops. 

Your eyes slowly begin to open, your view is blurry and the lights, even though dimmed quite a bit, are still too bright for you. There's a pounding inside your head, one which you have never felt- was this _real_ pain? An aching feeling laces your shoulder blades, dancing across your back like fire. ‘ _Where are my wings?’_ The soft texture of fleece brushes against your back, your mind beginning to race when you don't feel feathers caressing your body. Your eyes rolled to the left taking in your surroundings, your finally clearing. Bookshelves littered with a variety of books were scattered across the room, knick-knacks covered the empty spaces between them. Stout lamps, breath-taking figurines, and symbols decorated the room with a tender personality. Wherever you were, it felt like home. 

“If we take them in we could get in major trouble with my people, angel. They should have gone straight to the sulfur pits like I did and every fallen angel before them.” The sounds of clicking shoes against hardwood rang in your ears. Whoever was walking was frantically pacing back and forth behind the couch you laid on. Shadows danced on the bookshelves carrying the personality of the same voice you were hearing frantically talk to a second shadow. 

“It may not be in either of our job descriptions, Crowley. But I will not abandon an angel when they need help.” 

“They aren’t an angel anymore, Aziraphale,” the voice exclaimed. There was a short pause before he gave in. “Right, we get them on their feet and I drag them to hell.” The voice was agitated at this point and his tone certainly projected that. The same shoes that clacked behind the couch now rounded your head but stopped for a brief moment. “This is the last and only time I help an angel that isn’t you.” 

Pushing yourself up slowly, the blanket slid off your shoulders. The sound of shifting fabric made the two beings quickly turn to the source, rounding the couch to see you rise. A man with blonde, nearly white hair was the first to greet you. He was dressed in a tight suit that appeared far too pristine to ever be seen on any living human being. “ Are you alright, love?” Your eyes wandered to watch his soft hands idly fidget close to his stomach. 

“They’ll be fine, angel.” Aziraphale turned to give the demon an annoyed frown. 

“Do you,” the angel glanced between you and his partner,” remember anything?” 

You were quiet and the words you desired to say felt heavy in your parched throat. “ My name is.. (Y/N).” 

Aziraphale perked, a smile lighting up his face, “Oh! Marvelous! You remember your name!” He gave the red headed man a smile of relief. It may not have seemed like much but at least you could recall your angelic name.

The demon’s attention finally fell unto you, his gaze, although you could not see his eyes, was nonetheless intimidating. You felt yourself shrink into the couch as he watched you sit up all the way, the blanket draping itself on your elbows. Crowley smirked watching the blanket fall exposing your body while Aziraphale’s face turned red and his eyes darted up to the ceiling. Looking between the two, you weren’t quite certain what was causing such reactions but after you glanced down you came to realize that you were no longer wearing your robes. Entirely exposed, you sheepishly pulled your legs to your chest, wrapping the blanket back around your body. 

“What made you fall,” Crowley’s stare did not shift as he watched you cover yourself back up. 

“Crowley!” The angel exclaimed, looking at his partner with irritation. “I apologize for my boyfriend’s behavior- he’s quite the snake.” ‘Zira was flabbergasted by the demon’s question yet managed to retaliate with the snarky comment on Crowley’s entire being. 

Exchanging an undecided glance between the two conversations, your mind began to wonder about the men standing before you. They certainly had a very interesting way of portraying romance between each other but nevertheless it seemed to mesh well. You watched in silence as the two began to whisper quietly back and forth about how inappropriate Crowley’s comment was. The demon truthfully didn’t think much of his question considering he had asked it out of genuine curiosity. He only wanted to learn what the cause was to such a brutal fall.

“I don’t remember,” Your voice was softer than their already quiet disagreement. Swallowing what little saliva that gathered in your mouth, you spoke once more. “Where are my wings?”

Both angel and demon shared an exchanged look that exclusively said: ' _Well are you going to tell them or am I?'_ Aziraphale looked to the demon standing on his right with big soft blue eyes. Crowley, on the other hand, knew what those eyes said without a single word being shared between them. 

“Right then,” Crowley groaned, removing his sunglasses and folding them up. 

Your eyes widened upon realization that you were not in the presence of two strange humans, but rather two celestial beings. The argument you heard echoing in your head minutes before wasn’t part of any dream, but rather one that had occurred between the two gentlemen who stood before you now. 

“You’re,” there was no air in your lungs to continue as Crowley leaned forward to place his sunglasses on the end table next to the couch. Your breath hitched as you watched his movements. The feeling of being terrified sauntered through you as if you had just taken a satisfying sip of hot cocoa. Still, your cheeks flushed despite being shaken by the demon who stood tall, unintentionally intimidating you. 

His yellow eyes stared deeply into yours as he replied, “A demon, yes.” You gulped. 

Aziraphale’s eyes darted back and forth before he settled on you, “And I’m an angel, actually.” He nervously chuckled, hands back to fidgeting with one another. 

Crowley knew his partner well enough to know when Aziraphale was anxious and this was most definitely one of those moments. A tight posture, clammy yet soft hands, and a nervous smile, were all attributes that made the angel so easy to read. The cream suited man began to fumble over his words while you watched him do so with an empty expression on your face. It wasn’t so much that you did not feel your emotions, but rather that you were simply unsure of them at this moment in time. After all, a demon and an angel were standing before you after falling thousands of kilometers to Earth. 

You gripped the blanket that engulfed you a bit tighter with one hand at the thought of your fall. You genuinely didn’t remember a thing about it. So much had happened in such a short amount of time, you felt yourself slowly becoming more and more overwhelmed by the present situation. A heavy feeling settled in your chest and you ran your free hand over it. You weren’t human so you had no heartbeat thus no real need for breathing either, yet you felt desperate to catch your breath. 

“Your wings,” Aziraphale started, your eyes drifting upwards to meet his blue ones. “They, well you see.. Um, well. It starts when an angel chooses the wrong path and um, simply-” Crowley put up a hand up, gesturing downward while shushing his lover. The demon shook his head a bit at Aziraphale before giving you a side glance. 

“What my beloved angel is trying to say is that your wings aren’t here right now. You’ll be able to whim them into existence at some point but you really shouldn’t right now.” The demon’s face scrunched a bit, “Here I'll show you,” with that last sentence and a snap, a set of stunning black wings expelled themselves from Crowley’s shoulder blades- his clothing untarnished by their sudden expulsion. The wind that followed their powerful expansion caused a few books to knock down and a candle, which Aziraphale miraculously made extinguish before it had the opportunity to set his books ablaze. **_Again._**

You looked at them in awe, taking in the beauty of each wing. The cliché that only angels had perfect wings was indefinitely challenged when viewing Crowley’s. Never during your service in heaven had you ever seen such a perfect set of demon wings. Of course, this was the first time you were seeing a demon’s wings. The way the light shined on them would make anyone believe he was genuinely holy, each feather glistened despite their lack of color. The black feathers looked soft and just as well kept as he did. His wings folded into his back and despite knowing how impolite it was to stare, you couldn’t stop yourself from doing so. 

“Was that really necessary, Crowley?” The angel asked as he started picking up the discarded items around the room. You watched the angel walk back and forth cleaning up the mess made by his demonic boyfriend.

“I’m afraid so, dear,” a fangy smirk spread on the redhead's thin face. Aziraphale rolled his eyes, placing the items he picked up onto a coffee table. With your attention roaming on the angel it went briefly unnoticed that Crowley’s enormous black wings had disappeared without a trace. There were no tears in his jacket and not a single feather could be found dancing on the floorboards. Placing the last fallen book in its home, Aziraphale lifted his head a tad to peer over his shoulder back at you. 

“I do believe we have yet to introduce ourselves, even though you probably have learned our names by now," the angel chuckled a bit embarrassed. "My name is Aziraphale and this wily gent is my partner-” 

“Crowley,” the demon concluded. “ Real pleasure.” 

  


* * *

  
  
  


Ticking every second, your eyes watched the grandfather clock across the room move. Three mugs had been placed on the coffee table that stood between you and the two beings. Each cup containing a different beverage: the one closest to you held warm milk and honey, while a blue and red mug sat on the opposite end. A red coffee cup sat in front of the angel containing chamomile tea, while his counterpart drank from a blue mug that carried a strong scent of liquor. Sitting on the couch without a word shared, the demon and angel watched you aimlessly stare past them. The clock’s hand struck three o’clock, its chime playing through the bookstore. Its tune made you and shockingly Aziraphale both jump. You weren’t expecting such a loud noise to come from such a narrow clock and the angel didn’t realize how late it had become. 

“Three o’clock,” the demon’s tongue clicked, “otherwise known as the witching hour.” His voice had a sarcastically joking tone as if he was attempting to make it sound spooky but was failing miserably at doing so. Crowley placed his cup down and leaned back against the couch, watching you turn your attention to the rising steam that came from your mug. The angel opened his mouth but decided it wiser not to retaliate to his partner’s comment. Aziraphale took another sip of tea, his grasp on the mug shifting as he did. 

“It’s quite late, you really should rest,” the suited man slowly placed his mug down onto a coaster. 

“Angels don’t sleep,” you looked up from the now room temperature mug. 

“Ah, well yes, but you did just fall from heaven.” The blonde looked sheepish to admit. “Your body has taken quite a beating.” ‘Zira stood, walking around the table. The angel knelt down in front of you, pulling the blanket around your body. His already rosy cheeks filled with a darker shade of red as he shakily held the blanket. 

“By the time you wake in the morning, we’ll have gotten you something to wear,” the tone of his voice was tender and filled with care just as his touch. Every ounce of this being rang out angelic, and you felt comforted just by his presence alone. 

“Aziraphale won’t be picking youout anything, you can guess that by how well he dresses,” the demon jokingly muttered, now walking over to stand next to his kneeling partner. 

“Oh hush you,” the angel gave him a quick smile before turning that same sweet gaze over to you.

The curves and creases that formed his smile made your heart fill with an astounding feeling that overcame you in the best way. Without even realizing, the angel managed to release all of the tension that had built up in your chest with the smallest touch. His hands, although nowhere near your skin, radiated warmth through the soft fleece blanket that hugged you. Between his bashful smile and light touches, you felt… safe. As his hands moved, you watched them and his lips mouth words that were indeed audible but managed to fall flat when it came to genuinely hearing them. You were entranced in the best way possible and the feeling of a warm low flame filled your heart to the brim. It would have been better if you were listening but the emotions that fluttered inside of you left you speechless. Instead of speaking, you simply responded with a slow bob of the head, acknowledging his conversation. The smile on his face widened at your nod before he stood tall and exited the room with the demon who followed behind him. Snapping his fingers, Crowley turned off the remaining lights in the room, encasing it in darkness. 

You were alone now. A shaky breath escaped your lips and you shut your eyes tightly, clutching the blanket as your body leaned to the side, curling up.

 _'Angels don’t sleep_.' You thought, ' _But if for whatever reason you were asleep- This was a dream.'_ You repeated that to yourself over and over with your eyes closed. What felt like hours was truly minutes before you fell into a deep slumber. 

Floating in an empty space, you found yourself being supported by wings which extended from your beaten shoulder blades. Your right was a brilliant white and the left a pure black. Admiring your two wings in the weightless abyss, you wrapped them around your body, embracing yourself. Your skin was littered with cuts, scars, and burns from a multitude of things, each of which carried their own tale. Some were from battles and others from training, but the burns were the newest injury to your body. No angelic body holds scars, they were too perfect for those sort of mark-ups. Yet within the space you floated in, all of them were visible. 

Your head tilted upward, wings moving aside to look into the dark abyss, but in front of you was not that. Matching the slow bobbing of your body, a black ball floated, red dripping around the lower rim. You did not move, nor could you. A slit of white grotesquely made its way down the ball, the red pooling up below your floating body. With a brief glance down to the red liquid and back up, the ball had grown to look more of an eye, that slowly blinked. The lengthy slit that had formed a pupil grew thin as it stared you down intensely. The red liquid sloshed against your body, its warmth soon submerging you in what you could only describe as thickened blood. 

Shooting straight up you frantically grasped the top of the couch. Your now black lengthy nails digging into its soft fabric. A cold sweat dripped down your face and back while you shook uncontrollably. A deep and unsettling feeling rattled your core, suffocating you and leaving the impression that both Heaven and Hell now had all their eyes on _you_. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the second chapter of the lil fic I'm writing, I hope you all are enjoying it so far!  
> I had this halfway written since the first chapter and wanted to go ahead and produce the second chapter so here we are! 
> 
> I don't anticipate uploading wildly often since I work and am in college classes, but I look forward to writing and uploading once a week or every two weeks!
> 
> If you'd like to stay up to date with when I will be posting updates or anything like that feel free to follow my art blog: skunkpunkart on Tumblr! This will be my main hotspot for posting about the fan fic. Or feel free to follow my main: Avatar-Africa on tumblr as well!  
> Thank you for reading! I hope you all have a lovely weekend! (*´︶`*)


	3. A Prior Engagement

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Although the world is vast, England is quite small.  
> Unbeknownst to Crowley and Aziraphale, they weren't the only couple who witnessed the "shooting star."

**_ A Prior Engagement _ **

In a year’s time, Anathema Pulsifer, or soon to be Pulsifer, had successfully moved past her family’s legacy of prophecies. What felt like not so long ago, she had nearly forgotten about the saga continuing past its alleged ending after burning the newfound prophecies. Now living with her fiancé, Newt, the two shared a more quiet life considering they had just gone through Armageddon together.

Holding a cup of coffee, the witch watched as the wind blew the plant life around wistfully under the midday sun. Coffee had always been better past noon and it was Anathema’s favorite time to enjoy the caffeinated brew. Newt had been upstairs most of the day fiddling with a computer, attempting to get his curse under control. But that was futile as per usual. Lights in the kitchen began to flicker a bit and the muttering of a brutish swear word could be heard from upstairs. Anathema chuckled at her lover’s commentary. It was slow days like these that made her cherish the prophecies that predicted their future together and more so that the future ahead of her was a new mystery with every step.

Anathema never told her mother of what occurred after Armageddon. She knew it had been stopped and now her daughter was dating some British man named Newt as foreseen by one of Agnes’ prophecies. What went unknown to her mother was the morning after, when a new set of predictions was delivered to their door and later that same day they were burned. Anathema saw it better never to tell her mom, seeing as all her life she had been raised knowing she was one of the keys to stopping the end of the world. The idea of telling her mother that she charred the next series of their family legacy sent an uncomfortable shiver down her spine that was riddled with anxiety. It was better not to think of the possible outcome.

Placing down the now empty mug, Anathema made her way back upstairs. Inside their room, Newt was sitting in the center of their bed toying with his laptop which he had partially taken apart. The machine had been giving him issues for days now but he was persistent to fix it despite his efforts being futile. His partner had suggested taking it to a shop in town but nevertheless the witch hunter refused to give up. Newt was certain that with practice, he just might be able to have somewhat functioning computer skills- but both he and Anathema assumed that might never happen.

“Still trying to get it to work without getting the blue screen of death screen,” the brunette woman teased as she began changing out of her pajamas.

“Yes,” Newton answered sluggishly,” I tried taking the system apart but that didn’t help and I’m actually worried I might have made it worse.” He leaned back onto the bed, defeated. “Did you-” 

“Make you some tea? Yes, it’s in the kitchen.” Anathema knew him like a randomly plucked prophecy from Agnes’ book.

A thankful smile spread across the man’s face as he climbed off the bed. “Thank you, love,” Newt pecked her cheek with a sweet kiss.

Draping his arms around her waist, Anathema tied a chunk of her hair into a miniature bun. Newton laid his head onto her shoulders, watching her with adoring eyes. 

“Hey witch finder,” Anathema’s eyes fell onto his, watching him through the mirror. “What would you say to going out tonight?”

Letting his arms fall to hold her hips, Newt stood tall, kissing the back of her head.” That sounds lovely,” he replied, enjoying the moment of domestic bliss.

  
  


* * *

As the day grew old, both Anathema and Newton wasted their day together. Relaxing, cooking dinner, a bit of cleaning here and there, but all around nothing out of the ordinary. After nearly encountering the end of the world, ordinary was a godsent.  A cracked window within the room allowed for the faintest sound of crickets to be heard throughout the bedroom. Newt’s head laid in Anathema’s lap as she ran her fingers through his brown locks, a book in her opposite hand. Engulfed in her fantasy novel, Anathema hardly noticed Newt dozing off every so often in her lap as he idled on his phone. A soft hoot from an owl could be heard from outside, its noise alerting the witch to the time of day. She closed her book gently, placing it to her side before gently running her hand down Newton’s arm. The man rolled his head a bit to look at Anathema who in turn was staring at him softly.

“Ready to go see some constellations,” the witch’s question chimed. He nodded groggily before sitting up, stretching his lanky arms. 

Dusk had long since past and their time was nearly upon them for their outing. For Anathema, the terminology of “going out” nearly always involved spending the evening looking at stars in a field while the sounds of a fire crackled in front of them. While Newton wasn’t very wilderness savvy in comparison, he still knew how to appreciate nature’s pure beauty- that and his fiancée’s face of wonder as she gazed at it. The two exchanged banter as they got dressed for their cool evening in the meadows. Anathema wore her infamous plaid trench coat with black leggings underneath and a fitted dark blue long sleeve top under it. Newt dressed similarly adorning a heavy jacket with blue jeans and a t-shirt underneath it all. The witch grabbed a thin, rolled up blanket and a small notebook which she shoved into her coat pocket. Snagging her house keys and Newt's car keys off of their dresser, the two made their way out of the home excitedly.

Piling into Newton’s small blue car, both witch and witch finder rode down the empty dirt road towards their favorite spot. Beyond Jasmine Cottage, almost an hour away, was their destination. A field that flourished green grass,tall oak trees, and was where many gathered during the day for birthday parties and enjoyable outings. The drive held witty banter, sweet laughs, and an occasional comfortable silence that enveloped them. 

  
  


* * *

Both doors clicked, unlocking, and Anathema opened hers stepping onto the gravel road. The sky was pure here, stars shining in their full beauty while the moon shone in its own special crescent way. With her hand on the door, she turned to face Newt who was climbing out of the car himself. It was always hilarious to her seeing such a tall man climb out of such a short car. Although she always attempted to hide her humor, the witch's scrunched face always gave her away. The humor she felt turned to glee as she watched a bright star glimmer against the night’s black sky.

“Newt! Look up,” Anathema chimed as he quickly tilted his head to see what she was referring to.

As he craned his neck, an ear ringing sound echoed through the atmosphere. The sound in question was one that the two could only describe as an explosion that pierced the sound barrier. The little blue car, its patrons, and even the flourishing trees surrounding, shook as the object shot past the environment only to seemingly camouflage itself against the blackness of the night.

Anathema stood speechless yet her body language was an entirely different notion. The young lady was lightly tapping the hood of the car with one hand while she slightly bounced in anticipation before jumping back into the car.

"What in the, " Newt began before Anathema smacked the top of the car, overjoyed. 

“Let’s go! Let’s go,” she exclaimed, slamming the car’s door. Newton got in as quick he could, keys fumbling to put them back in the ignition.  “What do you think that was? There’s no way that was just a shooting star, it was in our atmosphere,” the witch questioned with excitement in her words.  The car turned over and he began driving in the best direction he could guess it landed in. 

“I just hope it’s not more aliens again,” the man nervously responded.

  
  


* * *

  
  


Fifteen minutes had passed and the two were anxious. Anathema was antsy in the passenger seat while Newton’s hands gripped the steering wheel as he drove. Emotions were running rampant with curiosity and confusion as the two felt they were finally nearing the fallen object’s landing. Newt came to a sharp stop, pulling over as he saw a tower of smoke rise to the sky. Anathema and her partner exited the vehicle and began trudging through the thicket of forestry to search for what had fallen from the evening sky. Pulling out his cellphone, Newt shined a slim path light through the woods, although they wouldn’t need the light for long. A fluctuating orangish glow brimmed through the trees and bushes as the duo neared the light source. Despite the sounds of crunching leaves below their feet, a faint rustling could be heard as they neared the landing spot. The two knelt down behind some bushes before peering around them cautiously. Anathema let out an audible gasp as she was the first to see the sight before her. 

Naked, scarred, and practically flaming, the entity attempted to prop itself up on its elbows only to collapse into the dirt. The ground was charred and littered with blackened feathers, some of which were still on fire. The long and beaten wings that protruded from their shoulder blades were extended, each patterned in splotches of black against their once white wings. Holes danced across those same wings as though some took hundreds of lighters and lit spots at random. This poor thing, this poor _person_ , was beyond damaged.

Newt placed a hand onto his fiancee’s shoulder, leering over to see what caused such a shock. Witnessing the being, he gripped her shoulder slowly pulling her back despite her leaning towards it.

“I’m not letting you get near that thing, “ the witch finder sternly whispered.

“It’s in pain, whatever it is, it needs help.” Anathema turned back to see her fiance’s face of concern both towards her and whatever they may soon be up against. “It’s in a hole,  _ on fire _ , Newt. We can’t just leave it there.”

As she began to stand the man soon took notice to a set unfamiliar shadows coming their way. Grabbing her by the waist as quickly as he could, Newt pulled down Anathema, covering her mouth with his hand.

“We aren’t the only people out here,” he softly exclaimed into her ear.

The witch soon slipped out of his loose grip to spy on whomever was coming to the scene. Much to her surprise it was the same two gents from nearly a year ago. The red headed demon and blonde, but practically white haired angel. That was it- it all made sense to her now. Anathema gestured for Newton to look past the bushes to which he too saw the gents tending to the beaten creature before them. A scuffling sound and faint groaning made the two peer over the bushes in unison as they watched the demon carry the being off into the darkness of the woods.  Anathema stood, taking a hesitant step forward past the bushes as she began to hear a car start up in the distance. The sound of its engine soon fading into the night amongst the quiet calling of crickets.

"Those were the guys from Armageddon, right?" Newt asked, looking down at Anathema. 

The brunette woman nodded, "Yup, and that was a fallen angel."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for being so patient with my uploads!
> 
> This chapter was sort of a filler to be honest but I promise that both Anathema and Newt aren't just a prop and will also have a part in this lil fic!
> 
> If you'd like to stay up to date with when I will be posting updates or anything like that feel free to follow my art blog: skunkpunkart on Tumblr! This will be my main hotspot for posting about the fan fic. Or feel free to follow my main: Avatar-Africa on tumblr as well!  
> Thank you for reading! (*´︶`*)


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